The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot
by lovingthis
Summary: Songfic inspired by Brand New's song of the same title.  It's the age old question: What can you possibly do when you know it's all your fault?


Hey guys! It's me again! With yet ANOTHER story!

This is partially dedicated to BethBecker as I still haven't finished the Matt/Becker oneshot she asked for and to YouHaveLovelyHair for talking with me about some of the verses.

Now, you should be aware that I normally participate in Jecker (Although I add dabs of Conby and Memily and I wasn't really a Jecker fan until I seriously started to write it!) Therefore this was difficult to write.

The song I've based this around is The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot by Brand New.  
>The other week, I heard it for the first time in over a year and it brought back memories of people I've lost along the way. It needed to be written so I gave it a shot.<br>I wasn't doing it justice.  
>So, throughout this, I've also used lyrics from other songs to help. Cheating? Maybe. But this is fanfiction so if I can't cheat here, where can I? :P<p>

Enjoy some Nick and Jenny!

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><p>Cutter sat with his head in his hands, wondering what he could do to make it right again. His feelings, however, could not be helped. Jenny was beautiful, kind, strong minded and smart. But she wasn't what he wanted, after so long of chasing her and gaining her, he realised that <em>she<em> was gone. The woman he really wanted was gone. And he had crushed a good friend in the process.

They had argued, fought and Nick, for his part, had dodged cutlery.

All he wanted was to fix it. To make her live again. But the only thing she wanted was the relationship, or to hate him, or him gone, the past eradicated. She spoke to him with such hate and hurt he wondered how she could cope with the conflicting emotions inside.

He supposed it was almost how he felt, although the feelings inside him were calmer, more self assured. He knew he wanted her back, as a friend, and he knew that he would only love Claudia.

Jenny was more torn, unable to decide which feeling, which _want_ or _need_ dominated.

He raised his head and moved to his desk, shuffling papers until he found a crisp, blank sheet and a pen.

He touched the nib to the paper for a second then lifted it, watching as the ink seeped out, staining the white. He paused, then tried to form the words he needed.

_If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand,  
>Hope you find out what you are; already know what I am. <em>

-/-

Since the last argument, the worst argument, they barely spoke. Nick thought, perhaps, it was best, to give her space to think things over without his presence. Obviously, with work it was somewhat complicated, but they did well. They spoke civilly, when required, but other than that no words were offered. Only the occasional apologetic gaze, returned with a death stare.

The scientist sighed at the memory of their last encounter.

"Why are you doing this?" She spoke softly as if not expecting a response.

"I'm not doing anything." He murmured, but he didn't even believe that himself. "This is what's best. For me, for you, for us."

'_Or maybe just for me.'_ he thought, as a tear formed in the pit of her eye.

She looked down, momentarily, then closed her eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink.

Then she was shouting.

Her speech passed over him. He couldn't quite comprehend the words, more because he knew that he was in the wrong than anything. A few choice insults followed, ending with 'no wonder they all left you.'

At that moment, he snapped back to reality.

Then he was shouting.

Now pouring confessions.

Having no answers.

Or solutions.

They barely even knew the questions.

_And if it makes you less sad, we'll start talking again,  
><em>_You can tell me how vile I already know that I am._

-/-

'No wonder they all left.'

The words had haunted him. What was it about him which was driving the women he loved away? What was it about him which hurt those he cared about?

The meaning was clear. He needed to change.

But how could that possibly help?

How would his change in actions improve her life? What would possibly come of him taking things more seriously? If he were to stop breaking rules, make life easy instead of searching for answer… How would it help?

Did Jenny really think that her happiness depended on him? On the way he acted, even when they both knew that nothing could happen between them?

_I'll grow old, start acting my age,  
>It'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate. <em>

-/-

He knew she had started by keeping it all inside. Behind her perfect exterior she had the stone cold centre which tried to protect itself from breaking. Jenny had said, at first, that she was glad he was honest and forgave him. He hadn't believed a word and still didn't. Her actions proved anything but.

Every day, when she appeared at work she looked stunning. So stunning that he often caught himself staring, jaw slightly dropped and eyes widened. Then he would remember what had passed between them and he would blink, looking away and snapping his mouth shut. After inhaling deeply, he would breath out all the impure thoughts of _Claudia_ and start to remember what he had done to Jenny.

She was pulling at him for the memories, for the hope, for the endless desperation that it wasn't over.

Because to give up fighting him, was to give up on them.

The pain she felt, each time they argued was more acute than anything else she had suffered. But the emptiness which waited on the other side of acceptance was something much worse.

_A crown of gold, a heart that's harder than stone.  
>And it hurts to hold on, but it's missed when it's gone.<em>

-/-

Nick couldn't erase the memory of her expression whenever he entered a room. She didn't think that he could see it, but it was clear. He would stand and watch her surreptitiously from a corner, laughing and smiling.

Until he came into sight.

She would move to the furthest wall, as close as possible to whichever friend was there. Jenny would look only at that friend, or one she had placed between himself and her, fixing her eyes on the being. She was doing her best to avoid him, to avoid making new memories.  
>But the pain was still there and Nick would have done anything to ease it.<p>

The last anomaly, before the break up. That was the day he realised.

They had run through together, chasing a madman. They had been too late to save him, the anomaly leading to a cliff edge. They were, in fact, lucky to have survived at all. It was only the astounding beauty of the image that had stopped them in their tracks, feet from the edge.

It was the top of the world. Vast expanses stretched out beneath them, leading as far as the eye could see in pure, _untainted,_ greenery.

"It's beautiful." The scientist appreciated the gift of the sight before them in revered awe.

Jenny, likewise, was stunned. Together they tested out the cliff and seated themselves on the end.

"Look at what we've done to it." Jenny sighed, disheartened by what they would return to. "It really brings it home what has happened."

"Makes it so much more…" He struggled for the word, his accent becoming more prominent. "Well, more."

"Enough to stop you fooling around and start taking this work seriously?" She leant into him, nudging his side with her elbow.

He didn't say a word but gave a half noise, as if to say 'almost.'

"Between this view and me I'm sure we can sort you out, just think with your heart."

The cheekiness would have made him smile, if it weren't for one thought in his head. He responded with a small, "yeah, you'll keep my feet on the ground alright."

But a thought echoed deep within his being. He couldn't do anything about it. He didn't know where it came from. But it was there and he knew it to be true.

'_Don't ask me to rule with my heart. Or yours will break.' _

Nick brought his mind back to the present, quite literally. He looked at the paper where he had formed another unsightly in blot.

_If it makes you less sad, I'll move out of this state.  
>You can keep to yourself, I'll keep out of your way.<em>

-/-

He was so tired, tired of it all.

Every night he lay awake, in the sick strange darkness which kept creeping on him, haunting every time the lights were out. In his head a mantra of questions kept him awake.

Did she wish it never happened? That he had never thought she was Claudia? Did she think the world would be better if their friendship had never existed? Would she have rather the past had never been changed and _she_ never existed?

Or was it him? Did she want him gone?

She avoided his sight when they weren't forced together by work. Nick knew full well that she did. Heck, everyone knew that she did. Well, it was understandable that the sight of him would hurt. But could he really leave? Was there anyway he could actually make it happen? If it would work, if it would make her happier, he would. But…

If he were to remove himself… what would it achieve? If he were gone, never to return, never to be the reminder of what could have been. If he managed to remove himself entirely… what difference would it make?

_And if it makes you less sad, I'll take your pictures all down,  
>Every picture you paint, I will paint myself out.<em>

-/-

He _never_ meant to lead her into something he didn't want. If he hadn't, at the time, honestly wanted her, felt love for her, he wouldn't have started the chase.

And now, he didn't _mean_ to hurt her still, but it was inevitable that he was going to move on from her first. He was already many steps ahead of her in the 'recovery' process.

Well, steps ahead in getting over Jenny. He just wasn't quite there when it came to Claudia.

So just as she had, at first, accidentally text him first thing in the morning, just as she had caught him in a hug and warned him to be careful without thinking… he could be forgiven for accidentally mumbling Claudia's name one day. Right? Surely, although he was still most definitely in the wrong, surely he could expect her to forgive him his slip ups when she had had hers.

After all, this wasn't the end for her. Nick now knew that he was only in love with someone who, technically, never existed.

Jenny didn't have that, she had a world full of potential. Nick knew that she was going to live to find another day, it was just _now_ things weren't so great. In time she'd get back to herself and while she searched he would wait, searching too. Searching for tale-tale signs that she was happy.

Although, possibly, he didn't deserve that reassurance.

Then, one such night, the night before, he made his fatal mistake. Rolling over he'd reached for his phone and paused, for half a moment, with indecision. There was the want to call her, to hear her voice of pure treason, the mimicked voice of a woman who didn't exist. And he did.

_It's cold as a tomb, and it's dark in your room,  
>When I sneak to your bed to pour salt in your wounds.<em>

-/-

He'd acknowledged that she was sometimes in the wrong too. He'd thought it many times and would probably think it many more before the letter was through.

And with that in mind he started to mentally list her faults.

Right at the top was her current attitude problem.

Or was it _his_ problem with her attitude? He shrugged off the idea.

What was she doing? Was she trying to make it into a competition? She had started to reject Abby's offers of nights out, stating loudly she was going on a date. It wasn't fair on him if she was going to try and have it both ways, making him feel guilty for being open and honest and trying to cause jealousy by announcing her plans.

_So call it quits, or get a grip,  
>You say you wanted a solution; you just wanted to be missed.<em>

Nick paused in his letter. That last line… It wasn't…

She didn't deserve to be spoken to like that. After it all. At the end of it all. It wasn't right. He was hurt by the loss of her and their current predicament. But she lost him. He didn't mean to sound self involved, but it was true. He had lost a great friend through his own mistake. She had lost someone she loved by no fault of her own.

Definitely no fault of her own.

He gently screwed up the paper and flicked it in the general direction of his bin.

After rubbing his hands over his face Nick pushed at the desk, giving himself a shove to stand up.

-/-

As he walked through the corridors of the ARC he thought. He had to get to her, had to see this through. He was sure, now he had spent so long thinking, he was sure that when he saw her, the words would come. The right and perfect words, necessary to convey his loss and regret.

He looked up around the centre of the ARC, the spiral walkway, the glass walls. And there she was, conversing with Lester, the small smile on her face which showed that, right then, she _had_ managed to forget, for just a few moments.

She meant so much to him still. She was strong and beautiful, but there was the other side, the side she had allowed him to see, which had allowed him to believe he had romantic feelings towards her. The fragile side, where she worried and regretted, where she hid herself beneath layers of protection.

Nick did love her. He truly did. Just not in the way she wanted. It didn't stop her from being one of the most important people in his life, it didn't stop her from meaning more than pretty much anything to him.

And he was right. The words did just come.

There was a lack of paper handy, so he set himself up at a computer, he could re-write the words later to make them more tangible. He recalled all his words from earlier with crystal clarity and wrote them. Then added the few lines which meant more to him than any of the others.

_You are calm and reposed,_  
><em>Let your beauty unfold,<em>  
><em>Pale white, like the skin stretched over your bones.<em>  
><em>Spring keeps you ever close,<em>  
><em>You are second-hand smoke,<em>  
><em>You are so fragile and thin, standing trial for your sins.<em>  
><em>Holding on to yourself the best you can,<em>  
><em>You are the smell before rain,<em>  
><em>You are the blood in my veins.<em>

He signed it with the only words he could think of.

Because… she loved him because he loved her first.

It was simple as.

If he hadn't chased her, if he hadn't insisted, she would never have found him so annoying and would never have fallen for him.

But the thing was, he was safe for her. After her engagement had fallen through, she had two options. One, go out into the world and risk her heart, time and time again on man after man until she found one who would love her. Or two, jump and fall into the safety of his arms. Jump, because she was finally taking the leap of faith, and fall as she was finally allowing herself to for him.

The safe option, the man who already loved her.

The man who loved someone else.

_Call me a safe bet, I'm betting I'm not.  
>I'm glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes, you can forget<em>

-/-

I came along, I wrote a song for you, and everything that you do.

* * *

><p>Thank you for getting this far.<p>

Please let me know what you think and if I should stay away from Jutter from now on!

Thanks again.


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